


852 Prospect

by Bluewolf458



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen, Sentinel Bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 22:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15350097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluewolf458/pseuds/Bluewolf458
Summary: Jim's life after leaving the army... but before meeting Blair





	852 Prospect

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2018 sentinel bingo prompt 852 Prospect

852 Prospect

by Bluewolf

Sort of follows after The Watchman

After being rescued from Peru and debriefed, Jim left the army and spent some weeks wandering fairly aimlessly.

He was disillusioned. The discovery that his team had simply been written off, that no attempt had been made to search for them when they failed to report in, had shattered his belief in his commanding officer. He was - in a way - grateful to the man who had noticed the wreck of the crashed Huey on a satellite photo and reported it, but although he was tired after eighteen months of relentless pressure, he had felt he was accomplishing something while he was in Peru.

But now, for the first time in his life, he felt that there was no purpose in - well, in anything that he did.

He didn't actually want one, but he decided that he should have a vacation, giving himself a chance to relax and unwind. He had plenty of money - and because nobody had informed his bank that he was MIA, he had immediate access to it.

He started by flying to Bali, where he had a short romantic interlude with a woman staying at the same hotel, that lasted all of six days. On the seventh morning, there was no sign of her - and when he asked at Reception, it was to find that she had checked out two hours earlier. Gone - without even saying goodbye.

He shrugged philosophically, carried on with the rest of his time in Bali, then flew back to America, landing in Los Angeles where he bought a fairly cheap car and began driving slowly northwards.

He had no idea what he wanted to do with his life, where he wanted to go (except possibly back to Peru, where he was sure the Chopek would welcome him). In some ways his memories of Peru were... vague, uncertain, but he did remember that he was happy there.

But that would be a retrograde step, and somehow he knew that he needed to move forward.

Forward... but to where?

He stopped once or twice, booking in to a motel for a day or two, doing some walking in the area, but not tempted to stay for more than that day or two. And then he got back into his car and drove on.

He was oddly surprised when he realized he had driven into Seattle.

Seattle - almost no distance at all from his home city of Cascade.

Not sure that he really wanted to go back to Cascade, he booked into a small hotel in Seattle, then went for a walk. He reached a small park, found a bench overlooking Puget Sound, and sat gazing over the water.

Thinking.

His life had been spent in the service of his country, and - although he was no longer in the army - he realized that 'to serve his country' was what he still wanted to do.

But if not the army - what? Ah - the police, the fire service... Not his 'country', but part of it. His 'city'. Yes. But what city?

Jim sighed. Although he had left it many years previously, driven from it by the need to escape from his overbearing father and his brat of a brother, his city was still Cascade.

Yes; he could take police training and then apply for a job in Cascade. He didn't need to contact his father, didn't need to let him know that his errant older son was back in Cascade.

His mind finally made up - and he never realized that the days spent in what he considered aimless driving had allowed him to recover from the mild depression he didn't know he had been suffering - Jim applied to the Police Academy in Olympia.

He chose not to take the slightly abbreviated course available for ex-servicemen, and qualified with the best scores in his year. Next he applied to Cascade PD for a job. They snapped him up, and he moved into a cheap motel while he looked for an apartment.

He found one almost immediately - a remarkably affordable open-plan apartment at 852 Prospect.

Jim spent a year with Patrol, before taking the detectives' exam and moving to Vice. He wasn't there long; after a few months he applied for a transfer to Major Crime.

He worked well with Jack Pendergrast, until Jack disappeared under somewhat dubious circumstances. IA suspected Jack of absconding with money he was supposed to be handing over as ransom for the son of a businessman. Jim insisted that he wouldn't do that, and thereafter told Simon Banks that he wanted to work alone.

Not long after that he had a windfall in the form of a much-delayed payment from the army of his back pay from his years in Peru. Initially he simply banked it, but he knew that he would be better investing it - as well as some of the other money in his account.

He wasn't sure, however, of the best way to invest it. His father would have given him advice - probably, he conceded, good advice - but he was still more than reluctant to approach William Ellison.

The decision was, at least in part, made for him the following evening when the phone rang. "Ellison," he said.

There was a slightly tearful note in the voice that answered him. "Mr. Ellison, I'm Hillary Sergeant. You've been renting your apartment from my husband."

"Yes."

He could hear the deep breath she took. "Mike - my husband - died in February. I... My family lives in Arizona, and my mother's not well - I've decided that I need to move back there to help my sister look after her. I've discussed things with my lawyer, and he agrees with me that selling all the apartments Mike owned - including the one we lived in - makes sense, because whatever happens, I won't be coming back to Cascade.

"I felt it would be fairest to offer the sitting tenants the first chance to buy the apartments they're in. I'm asking $50,000."

Jim thought fast. "Get your lawyer to contact me. I'm definitely interested. If I'm not here, he can reach me through Cascade PD, Central Precinct. And... I'm sorry about your husband, and your mother."

"Thanks." There was a click as she hung up.

***

 _That back pay arrived at just the right time!_ he thought. Yes, he could have put down a substantial deposit from his savings and taken out a mortgage to cover the rest, but he had enough in the bank to cover the full payment and still leave him a quite a lot of money - and having his money 'invested' in property was undoubtedly a good option. Houses rarely - if ever - decreased in value. If he chose to sell in a few years' time and move elsewhere - unlikely as he considered that option to be - what he got for the loft apartment would go a long way towards paying for a new house. Any additional savings he made - and he knew he would make additional savings - should easily make up the balance. And - more importantly - he wouldn't be losing money by having to pay interest on a mortgage.

And so, when Hillary Sergeant's lawyer contacted him two days later, he gave the man a check for $50,000 and happily signed the papers that gave him possession of Apt 307, 852 Prospect. He then updated his house insurance, which had previously been for the contents only - he had always assumed that Mike Sergeant had the house insured, choosing to cover the house for everything possible, including hurricane, earthquake, tsunami, and volcanic eruption as well as fire, burglary and vandalism - he didn't forget that because he was a cop, any criminal who discovered his address might break in and vandalize the apartment.

Then, satisfied that he had protected himself and his new acquisition to the best of his ability, he relaxed, sure that for the future his life was secure.

 

 


End file.
